


Living well is therapy

by Fxckmeyouresuchariot



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Deserves to be Happy, Dean does not forget about Cas, Dean gets nailed, Episode AU: s15e20 Carry On, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, I really can't belive they did that, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Post-Season/Series 15, but in a good way, fuck you to everyone who was involved on writing that piece of shit, not beta we die cause we gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fxckmeyouresuchariot/pseuds/Fxckmeyouresuchariot
Summary: This is a gay fix-it for the Supernatural finale because I totally hated it.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	Living well is therapy

**Author's Note:**

> So, apparently I’m making a habit of posting supernatural fanfiction now bc the actual writers of the show suck at their show.  
> I wrote this in like 20 minutes out of pure spite, it’s short, cheesy and not beta read. English isn´t my first language so any corrections are welcomed.  
> Enjoy the gay ride.

This is how it goes:

You spend a whole week not sleeping and figuring out a plan. Sam’s glued to the library table, and you only talk to share new ideas. Sometimes you want to cry, sometimes you do and your brother is right there; restless like you and willing to do anything.

In the end it’s a spell. He figures out a way to make a breach into the empty, sending some of the angels to heaven and Cas… home.

This is how it goes:

You grip him tight and you take him out of the empty. Your hand is not scarred on his shoulder when he gets out, except you might be bruising him because you can’t let go. You’re probably in shock; the portal barely held itself open and adrenaline is still rushing through your veins. You’re probably in shock and you can’t stop holding Castiel’s arm with your trembling hand while you look at him, your mouth open, your eyes watering. Sam is right beside you, checking you out and stumbling over fast words you can’t quite hear, Cas says something too and you don’t understand it, your heart is beating too loudly.

Suddenly he’s in front of you, cradling your face between his hands. You think he asks if you’re alright but can’t be sure, you can’t focus on anything other than his eyes. They’re not impossibly red or filled with tears now, they’re as blue as the sky and looking straight at you with concern; there was always this strange glint in his eyes that you couldn’t put a name on, something you didn’t understand before but now you know it’s love, he loves you… “I love you too” you say and then kiss him. There’s no coherent thought process in it, you just need to kiss him.

When you break apart Sam starts laughing, you forgot he was there. Damn you forgot about the whole world.

This is how it goes.

Castiel had lost some grace on the process of coming back. Maybe it’s because you didn´t send him straight to heaven, maybe it’s just a cruel joke because otherwise it would have been just too damn good and those things don’t happen to you. Somehow he’s not actually upset about it, he seems at peace with everything that’s happened.

There’s a chance he could get the grace he lost back.

There’s a chance he doesn’t really want it…

This is how it goes: 

It’s late at night and Castiel is still in your bedroom. You’ve talked, and then you’ve kissed, and then he took your clothes off slowly. You wonder for how long have you wanted this and thought you’d never have it, how long has Cas wanted this too… it’s soft and slow, something you’re not really used to. You’re lying on the bed completely naked and he’s all over you, taking you apart and building you again. He’s kissing bruises on your collarbones and you’re scratching his back, then you’re chanting his name like a prayer, maybe you’re actually praying for it to never end. This, you think, this right here and right now could become a religion.

This is how it goes.

A couple months pass, the three of you are enjoying freedom.

Eileen becomes a permanent fixture in the bunker. She and Sam cook, and laugh and read together. You’ve never seen your bother this happy before and something warm spreads through your chest every time you think about how good she is for him.

You sleep better knowing he’s finally ok. Castiel spends the nights in your bedroom and sometimes he even sleeps there, you’re not sure what that means but he tells you not to worry and his body is just too warm to keep complaining.

When you wake up in the morning with his hands around your body and his head on your chest it feels like you can start the day breathing easily. You make a habit of kissing him good morning.

This is how it goes:

There comes the morning Sam sits in front of you on the map table and he tells you he doesn’t want to hunt anymore. You’d seen this coming and despite your initial fear of a different life you know he deserves it.

Sam and Eileen move the week after that.

The bunker becomes a hunter’s base but it’s no longer your home. Castiel convinces you that the small house just outside the city will be the right place for you. What convinces you in the end is the way the light seeps through the bedroom window in the morning making his skin look like gold.

Sometimes you go on hunts with Cas and sometimes you just go for a ride and sing along to your mixtapes.

Every time you’re on the road you find glimpses of Jack in the things that surround you, it always makes Cas smile the brightest, how random it is to feel him on absolutely anything. You miss having him around but it doesn’t really hurt when he’s so present.

This is how it goes:

Years pass. All of you are aging, even Cas, but you realise it’s the right thing to happen.

One day you’re sharing a beer with Sam while you watch his children chasing each other around. It’s in days like this when you allow yourself to look back and feel proud of the long way you’ve come.

Your little brother looks at you and jokes about your dog. “Bitch”

You look at your little brother and joke about his white picket fence. “Jerk”

You both have grey hairs and wrinkles are forming on your faces. You both are smiling.

It’s in days like this when you allow yourself to look back and think “it’s been a good life”.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is inspired from something Richard Siken said about how much it sucks that people tell you it’s therapeutic to turn your pain into art. I guess it’s pretty ironic but well…
> 
> I don’t usually write fluff or cliché lovely stuff (I was actually working on a pretty dark fic with a bunch of unrequited feelings) but I really needed this right now bc the amount of anger I’m feeling can’t be healthy. I hoped you liked it. If you want to come yell about spn with me this is my tumblr: longhairedgays.tumblr.com  
> (i can't figure out how to paste the link into the text fuck)


End file.
